


Folie à Deux

by Miss_Nihilist



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: (and they were roommates), Codependency, Coming Out, Consequences, Fictional politics, M/M, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rebuilding, Responsibility, Roommates, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27251701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Nihilist/pseuds/Miss_Nihilist
Summary: Galo and Lio begin working on rebuilding Promepolis and the scattered communities of the former-Burnish. In the meantime, they also have to adjust to their new responsibilities, their memories, and each other.(Because, as it turns out, fusing their souls together came with consequences.)
Relationships: Lio Fotia & Galo Thymos, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 70
Kudos: 157





	1. i. walking on two feet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fic for this movie, so be gentle with the criticism, please. It's sort of based on my interpretation of the ending of Promare, where Galo and Lio fuse their souls/minds/bodies and "become one" in order to put the promare back in its dimension. From what I can tell, most of the fandom agrees with that assessment, so I'm hoping that I'm not stepping on any toes here. I just like fics that explore consequences, so boom, here you go.

"Live together?" Lio blinks. "Why?"

Galo is just as surprised, only because he wasn't expecting Lio to _not_ immediately agree to his suggestion. He'd been hoping that it was one of those wordless understanding things that they have sometimes because he'd been trying to avoid putting his reasoning into words ever since the idea first latched onto him. It had dug its nails in and refused to leave. Nevermind that he barely knows Lio at all — once the thought had occurred to Galo, he'd decided that he wanted this more than he had ever wanted anything.

"Why not?" He offers weakly, looking away. Does he _really_ have to explain himself?

Lio is less than impressed with his hand-waving. "We've known each other for about two weeks," he says flatly, despite the fact that he'd accepted an invitation to get tea with the man he's known for two weeks. He sets his mostly-full teacup down to gesture at the quaint, otherwise empty shop around them. The kindly old woman who'd served them has disappeared into the back of the restaurant. "I know you're focusing a lot on rebuilding Promepolis with your Burning Rescue crew, so I'd assumed that you were staying with them at headquarters. And I've been staying in the tent cities, trying to get everything settled with the…" It's Lio's turn to look away, grimacing, "... _former_ Burnish."

"I know, I know." Galo passes his cup between hands, watching the tea slosh around just to have something to do. "Headquarters is still a little torn up… We're located pretty close to downtown. Besides." He brings the cup up to his lips and frowns around the rim. "It's not like having a proper home."

There are holes in the roof of HQ and the tremors caused by Kray's ship hitting the ground at terminal velocity caused one of the walls to collapse completely. The tarps that they've hung up do a poor job of keeping the wind out as summer fades and the days grow shorter and cooler. They don't have electricity up yet and the water isn't much better — alternating between dirty or cold and barely there. That's why Galo's asked Lio to come to this tea shop out on the city's outskirts: neutral and undamaged ground. They're closer to Chichibu than Promepolis.

Lio snorts. "It's not home?" He arches a brow incredulously. "I thought you and your team were glued at the hip, as good as family. Why would you want to live with me over them?"

Clearly, saying that there aren't apartments available big enough to fit his whole team isn't going to work (even if that's true). Galo bites his lip. He takes a shaky breath. Fine. _Fine_ , he saved the world. He can do this. "Promise not to laugh?" Galo glares weakly across the table.

Instead of answering, Lio shrugs. He takes a sip of his tea and the cup does a poor job of hiding his smile. But there's something playful and genuine in his eyes, so Galo sighs. He really shouldn't trust Lio as much as he does, but it feels like they've known each other for years. They're getting tea together like old friends, not like people who were fighting on top of a burning building a few weeks ago.

"Okay. The truth is…" Galo runs a hand through his hair, slumps. "I've felt weird since what we did when we... _joined_ to get rid of the promare. I only really feel like myself again when I'm around you." He forces himself to meet Lio's eyes so he can see that Galo is being earnest. "I don't know why. This is probably a really shitty reason to ask you to move in with me, I get it, I just…" His fingers worry absentmindedly at the rim of the cup. "After everything, I want to feel normal again. That probably doesn't make sense, does it?"

But Lio isn't laughing or shaking his head or refusing the offer. He looks shaken and uncomfortable. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, trying to find the words. Then, eventually, "No, it makes sense." Lio sounds like he wishes that it didn't. "I feel the same way," he admits. "I don't get it, either. It's hard to describe. For some reason, I've _missed_ you. I've been doing things the same way I always have, but it feels like something is wrong."

"Yes, exactly!" Galo leans over the table, encouraged. Lio blinks at him again yet doesn't try to move away. Without thinking, Galo releases the cup to fold his hands around Lio's instead. It feels like their hands were made to be pressed together, cast from the same mold. Was it always like that? Is Galo imagining things? "It's like, suddenly, I've been walking around with one leg. I've been off balance since everything went down and you've been the only thing that's fixed it."

It really is uncanny. A person that he barely knows shouldn't make the tightness in Galo's chest loosen. There's no logical reason why Lio would be a missing piece of the puzzle. But Galo has been hobbling around, stumbling on what used to be familiar ground. The Burning Rescue HQ feels strange and alien and Lio feels like going home after a long day.

There's a sharp frown on Lio's face. He looks like he's thinking about it. He hasn't tried to yank his hands-free yet, which is probably a good sign. "... It still feels like living together is overkill," he protests finally, weakly, as if he's already resigned himself to it.

Galo grins. "Are you saying that you're scared to try? Not up for a little risk or a challenge?"

That gets him an eye roll. Lio is supremely unimpressed. "Of course not. You're not being subtle, either." He _still_ hasn't tried to separate their hands. Lio's drink is forgotten and, with his hands free, his fingers curl around Galo's palms loosely.

Galo hums, agreeing. "There's this place that I was looking at nearby. It's got an open kitchen and living room plan and two bedrooms."

" _Gods_." Lio groans. The beginning of a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. "You're serious. How am I supposed to explain this to the others?"

Galo offers no answer. It takes all of his will power not to burst out laughing when he shrugs. "Can I take that as a yes?"

His assumption must be right because Lio doesn't disagree. Their wordless understanding is back. The smile on Galo's face feels right — like his soul has finally settled, like his skin fits right on his body again, like he can walk on two legs again and doesn't have to worry about tripping anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hesitant to post this, but my girlfriend made me. So if it's bad, I blame her entirely.


	2. ii. one step at a time

Kicking off his shoes isn't easy with his arms full, but Lio leaves them sloppily at the genkan before continuing on to the living room. Gently — _very_ gently — Lio sets down the box of tableware he's carrying on the kotatsu table. When he doesn't hear anything clatter, he relaxes. A quick survey of the room shows that Galo hasn't made much progress when it comes to unpacking. 

Most of their things are in their original packaging since they've been bought new. Galo's apartment had been burned and collapsed with what happened downtown, but he'd often chosen to sleep at Burning Rescue anyway so nothing important had been lost. And Lio had never had personal belongings, so going to the store and picking something out and bringing it home with the intention of it being _permanent_ was an interesting and funny process.

There is a thud from down the hall and Lio glances in that direction as Galo's voice reached him, muttering swears. He leaves the living room to walk towards the bedroom, pausing in the doorway. It takes Lio a moment to find the words as he takes in what, exactly, he's looking at.

The room is a mess. Clothes have been dumped out of their boxes and are scattered in piles seemingly without rhyme or reason. Decorations are half-hung but mostly on the floor or other boxes or on top of furniture. The box for the bathroom has somehow ended up in there too and Galo is trying to cram everything back into it with his brows drawn into a scowl.

Lio watches him for a few moments, smiling faintly, before deciding to speak up. "I brought up our tableware," he says. It startles Galo badly enough that he drops the packaged hand soap he was holding. "I left it on the kotatsu, but looking at the space we have, I think we're going to have to downgrade to something smaller if you want to be able to fit a computer desk in here."

A sigh. Galo sets the soap on top of his overfull box and attempts to push it all in further. He only succeeds in making the cardboard bulge. "No, no. It'll be a little cramped, but we can work it in next to the TV."

"We don't have a lot of room." Lio frowns. "Won't that block the balcony?"

"Yeah, but—" Galo's reasoning is cut off as the cardboard box he's been abusing suddenly tears. Its contents go spilling across the floor again. There's no cursing or punching the wall from Galo. He takes in the torn pieces with a groan, defeat in his eyes as he gives up and sits back for the time being. He brings his knees up and drapes an arm around them loosely, running the other hand through his hair. "Shit. We still need to talk to that tech place about any discounts they can offer. But you need a computer to stay up to date on everything with the tent cities if you're going to be staying here."

The smile is long gone. Lio surveys the room with a grimace and a pang of guilt in his chest. "I've told you before, I can achieve the same thing with a phone. Which will be cheaper and save us space."

"But also won't be as effective," Galo shoots back, crossing his arms in that _nothing-you-say-will-change-my-mind_ way that Lio has been quickly forced to familiarize himself with. "I knew that I should have looked longer and found someplace bigger. But with the rebuilding, and the trial coming up, and…" He looks away from Lio as he trails off.

Catching the unspoken meaning, Lio shifts in discomfort. Moving in together has been inconvenient, considering what they are both trying to accomplish. There's so much to be done with helping the former-Burnish assimilate into normal society and, as it stands, there isn't much of a society at all because everyone is scared and displaced and confused, and a large portion of the government has been removed thanks to the reveal of just how deeply-embedded Kray's influence was.

So they could have timed the move better. But Galo had come to him unable to go another day without him, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, Lio had felt the same way. It's like something in his chest (in his heart, in his mind, in his _soul_ ) is aching and empty, distracting him every second of the day that Galo isn't in his immediate presence. Lio doesn't understand it. He doesn't particularly care to try and pick it apart — not with everything else that he's doing.

"Let's not worry about it," Lio decides after a moment. "Moving again will just waste money and be an extra hassle. We can make do with this."

"I guess." Galo is agreeing with him, but he doesn't seem convinced. "I'm sorry, this is just a shitty situation. And it's not fair to you. I should have been more careful the first time, but I rushed it and screwed it up." His expression knots into a glare directed at no one except himself. "What else is new? Damnit…"

Lio softens. He walks over to Galo and ignores the mess in favor of offering his hand. Galo takes it with a half-hearted sigh, letting himself be pulled up onto his feet. "You're being too hard on yourself," Lio chastizes. "You _never_ think anything through."

It's intended to be a joke, but Galo gives him a flat look without an ounce of humor on his face. "That works when it's just myself that I have to worry about. When I'm firefighting, it doesn't matter if I get burned or bruised because I'm busy saving lives." He gestures helplessly toward the ceiling. "Now— I have to worry about how all of my decisions affect _you_. Not to mention the press. We're supposed to be the faces rebuilding this city and if we can't look put-together, people are going to lose faith in us. I've never had that much pressure before." He bites his lip anxiously. "Press used to just take pictures when I was done saving the day, but now there's no privacy except here. Everyone's always asking questions and waiting for me to slip up like they _want_ me to fail. I don't know what I'm doing."

That's… a lot to take in. Which, Lio realizes, is the problem. "You're trying to do too many things at once." He takes Galo's hand and tugs him out of the room. "Here, come with me. I want to show you something that helped me when I was running with Gueira and Meis."

"We don't have time for this," Galo protests, whining, but he follows Lio anyway.

The kotatsu isn't made to be sat on but, since they don't own any chairs yet, Lio moves the box of tableware out of the way and gestures for Galo to sit. He does, looking unimpressed all the while.

Satisfied, Lio sets the box down and opens it, shuffling a few things around to find the teapot that he packed. The cups are still packaged, but Lio sets them aside and takes the pot over to the sink. He sets the infuser aside and lets the water run until it's half-full. Once that's done, he sets it on the burner in the adjacent kitchen. He can find the tea leaves while the water heats to a boil.

As he moves around, Lio can feel Galo growing more incredulous by the second. Then, finally fed up, he says, "Is having _tea_ really necessary? We've both got full schedules. Don't you have to be at one of the tent cities in an hour about a water shortage?"

Lio shrugs. "They can wait."

Were it possible, Galo's eyebrows would have disappeared into his hairline. "They can… wait," he repeats, stunned. As if the concept of _not_ immediately leaping to other people's rescue has never occurred to him before.

Fine. Lio can teach him how to be moderately selfish. He doesn't look up from the box he's searching through, the one where Lio knows he left his green tea leaves. "Yes, that's what I said. How can you expect to be a good leader for _anyone_ if you're on the verge of a mental breakdown?" It wasn't like Lio rolled out of bed one morning and became the leader of the Mad Burnish. It wasn't like he was a terrorist _every day_.

"I'm not on the verge of a mental breakdown!" Galo still hasn't tried to stand up. His gaze lingers with an unspoken accusation, trailing after Lio as he gathers the teacups.

He hums, unconvinced. "You're too passionate. Do you remember the first time we fought, how calm I was?" Galo nods, eyes narrowed. Lio shoots him a smirk. "Taking a few minutes a day to sit down and not do anything can go a long way. Have you never heard of the concept of self-care?"

It's quiet while Galo ruminates on that. The water in the pot isn't boiling yet, but Lio puts the leaves in the infuser and pops it in any way. He leaves it to seep and turns back to Galo.

"Sure I have," Galo mutters. He's less tense now, less frustrated. His shoulders are slumped and he's frowning at the floor. "But there's going to be time for that stuff later when this all calms down. It's about prioritizing."

Even though their current jobs have a lot in common, Lio takes a moment to remind himself that they weren't always. He's used to the high-demand — Lio has been with the Mad Burnish for years. Galo is a firefighter who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got in over his head. The smile on Lio's face is fond.

"Alright. Then let's prioritize." Walking over to Galo, Lio pulls out his phone and opens a notepad app. "What do you want to get done in the next week?"

Galo blinks in surprise, his lips parted slightly. When he pulls himself back together, his expression turns thoughtful. "I still have to give my testimony for the case they're building against Kray…" He doesn't sound happy about it, but that's baggage for another day. One step at a time. Lio makes a note of it. "We need to finish unpacking. We're both short on clothes and there's a bunch of furniture we don't have and the fridge is mostly empty."

Lio nods, fingers flying over the keyboard. "That's a good start. What else?"

They take a break on the list so that Lio can pour the tea, but they pick it back up while they sip on their drinks. At some point, they both end up sitting cross-legged on the floor. It takes some arguing and more than a few good points but, eventually, Lio has convinced Galo to cut his to-do list in half, with the rest being pushed to the bottom for him to do next week or if an opening in his schedule appears.

"Okay." Galo finishes his tea and sets the cup aside with a clatter, laying down on his back. He spreads his arms out and stares up at the ceiling. "Okay, this is… good. This is manageable. I can live with this." He glances over to Lio and smiles. "Thanks."

Altogether, it's taken about fifteen minutes out of their day. Lio takes in how relaxed Galo looks — sprawled out with his hair a mess and his shirt riding up and his expression content — and decides that it was fifteen minutes well-deserved. He swirls what's left of his tea in the bottom of his cup, pushing bits of leaves around. "You're hopeless," is what Lio mutters, but his smile says the rest: " _You're welcome."_


	3. iii. "you worry too much"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter features gratuitous headcanons.

_"Fuck."_ Lio stops mid-motion to kneel, clutching his ankle. "That hurt, that hurt _so bad_. Shit."

Galo drops his offensive position and hurries over to kneel at Lio's side. Considering the kick that Lio had been in the middle of delivering, he's willing to bet that this is just a sprain. "I don't see any bruising. Does it feel like it's broken?"

There's another pained hiss from Lio as he sits down fully, shooting Galo a glare. "How the hell should I know? There was just a sudden pain for _no reason_."

It's not that funny, but Galo can't help but be amused. "What? Have you never had a sprain before?"

"A _what_?" Lio has stopped holding his ankle and, instead, holds the injured leg out in front of him as though he's offended by it somehow. "Sprain? It's not permanent, is it? I've never heard of that," he muses.

Galo isn't sure for a moment if Lio's serious or not. He… doesn't quite know how to answer. "Uh, no, it's not permanent. It's pretty common. It's just when the tendons in your ankle stretch or tear because you moved in a weird way." There's something not right about this situation. Galo feels like it shouldn't have happened. "You've never had a sprain before?"

"No." Lio doesn't seem put off by that. He stands up, setting a hand on Galo's shoulder while he tests his foot before deciding that it feels well enough to put pressure on. "But I've felt strange since we got rid of the promare. Maybe this is part of that." He flexes his hands experimentally, shooting Galo a hesitant look. "What's a tendon?"

The conversation is only getting weirder and more concerning. "It's a strip of tissue that connects your muscles to your bones." Galo sets a hand on Lio's forehead, frowning. "Are you sure you're alright? You feel warm." And he hadn't knocked his head against anything, so Galo is mostly sure that Lio isn't suffering a concussion.

"You're the one making up words!" Lio gestures helplessly upward with his hands. "I've done that move a hundred different times and I've never had a problem with it until today. It's always been so easy." To demonstrate, he leans his weight back on one foot, bringing the other leg up, and—

—immediately crumbles with a wince, stumbling forward. Luckily, Galo is there to catch him. He frowns, not missing the way that Lio is now careful to keep his full weight on his uninjured foot. "I brought a water bottle. It should still be cold, so you can use it as an ice pack to keep the swelling down."

There's another flinch from Lio, but Galo isn't sure if that's due to something he said or to the fact that he's practically dragging Lio out of the room. Galo would just carry him, but Lio doesn't enjoy being carted around like he's delicate so Galo has to settle for keeping one of Lio's arms over his shoulders and his own arm around Lio's waist.

"Great. _Ice packs_. And I have swelling to look forward to as well," Lio mutters sarcastically. He hobbles along as Galo leads the way, limping on one foot while Galo exits the gym's sparring room to head for the locker rooms.

There's hardly anyone else here, likely because the economy is recovering just as much as the buildings themselves and no one wants to spend money. Even in the city over, people are shaken and locked inside their houses, still trying to adjust without really knowing what happened or why. Galo wouldn't be at the gym if it wasn't important to keep his body healthy. And Lio's, too. Maybe Galo is imagining it, but he swears that Lio is getting skinnier and losing color. As if such a thing were even possible.

In the locker room, Galo sets Lio down on a bench and starts looking through his locker. It's not hard to find his water bottle and, thankfully, it is still colder than room temperature. Not as good as ice, but it's better than nothing.

He hands his water bottle to Lio and, true to his word, starts packing up their things. "Hold that against your ankle. And keep your weight off of it. I don't want you to strain yourself and make it worse," he instructs. Once both of their lockers are empty, the few things that they brought with them resting in the bag over Galo's shoulder, he takes a seat on the bench next to Lio.

Galo isn't a stranger to worrying about people. He's dedicated his adult life to firefighting because the Mad Burnish had been such a threat because he hadn't been able to accept the idea of people losing someone precious to them the way that a fire stole his parents. Life has always been precious to Galo, and the lives of his friends, especially.

The thing is, he's never worried about someone this much before. Lio has a sprained ankle, at the very worst, which is a minor injury and should clear up in a week or so. It's not life-threatening by any stretch of the imagination. Lio doesn't even look like he's in pain. But Galo is biting his lip and tapping his fingers on the metal bench, eyeing Lio's ankle and doing everything in his power not to lean over and offer to take a closer look. He's never been the type to fret before. Even with his fellow Burning Rescue members, Galo doesn't worry about them that much. They're all tough. They can take care of themselves. And Lio should be no exception. The things that Galo has seen him do, the things that Lio has come back from… Galo should have no reason to worry about him, ever.

So why does a sprained ankle make Galo feel like he's watching Lio's fire go out all over again?

"If you say so. You're the medical expert," Lio drawls, only somewhat-sarcastic. He seems completely oblivious to Galo's inner turmoil, prodding his ankle experimentally.

In some desperate bid to keep his thoughts from lingering, Galo forces himself to stare at the wall instead and says, "I think that's enough sparring for today." He pauses. "Have you seriously never sprained something before? The way you fight, it must've taken years of practice." It's difficult to believe that Lio has never had a fracture or a sprain or so much as a bruise. But he doesn't know what a tendon is. Is that just because he's never had a formal education?

Lio makes a face. "It did take me years to become an excellent fighter, but no, I've never had a sprain before." He pulls his uninjured leg up to his chest, propping his chin up on his knee. "That's a non-Burnish thing. My body used to be a lot different." He doesn't sound happy about it. As a matter of fact, he's grimacing. "Now when I work out, my chest heaves and my skin gets wet and sticky. My legs and arms burn and I can hear thumping in my ears. Sometimes I can feel it, too." He unfolds his arms in front of him to press a thumb to the dip in his wrist, where a prominent vein is. Lio shoots Galo a hesitant look. "Are those things normal?"

For once, Galo can't think of anything to say. He opens his mouth and then closes it, running through all of those implications. "... Did the Burnish not have internal organs?" Is all he manages. Maybe that question is insensitive, but Galo's mind is reeling. No lungs, no heart, no muscle, no tissue… How did that even _work_?

He realizes when Lio's frown doesn't lessen that Galo never actually answered the question. But Lio doesn't press him for an answer. He shrugs as if Galo is being ridiculous by needing to ask. "You saw one of us die when you found our refugee group in those caves." His tone is flat and impersonal. The memory of watching that Burnish girl's death still makes Galo's throat tight and he doesn't understand how Lio can pretend not to have been affected. "Our bodies turned to ash and eventually we're carried away by the wind. We didn't leave blood and flesh behind like _normal_ humans." He considers for a moment how to phrase it, then says, "Human bodies are made of several organisms all working together. Burnish were only one organ, and we had our fire at the center, sustaining us." Lio sets a hand over his chest, expression mournful as though he can still feel the heat of the promare. "We could achieve practical immortality in that way. I don't know how it works." He drops his hand and looks away, bitter. "The kind of research that was done on the Burnish wasn't practical or polite."

It's not that Galo has nothing to say — it's that none of his options seem appropriate. He averts his gaze politely and rubs the back of his neck, awkward. After a minute of silence, Lio has let himself relax somewhat. Only then does Galo say, "For what it's worth, I think that's pretty cool."

Surprised, Lio laughs. It's short and dry, but it brings a tentative smile to Galo's face as some of the tension breaks. "I prefer it," he admits. "It was at least a lot easier than having to focus on a dozen different things with my body at once. Like breathing and blinking." He takes a deep breath as if to demonstrate. "You know, I never had to go to the bathroom, either. The promare burned everything I ate. There was no waste left that I needed to get rid of."

It's Galo's turn to laugh. "I'd say that's weird, but that sounds a lot better than all of the tedious shit I have to do every day," he agrees. He stands up, hoping that he looks unbothered and calm. "Are you ready to go?"

Lio rolls his eyes and moves to stand. "Are you going to continue fussing over me if I walk?" He puts his bad foot down and winces. It's barely more than a flinch and Lio catches himself quickly, but Galo still notices.

"Alright," he sighs, holding his hands out. "Let me carry you."

The statement doesn't receive the lengthy protest that Galo was expecting. Lio gives him an exasperated look. "You're serious?" He asks, weary, knowing full-well what the answer is.

"Oh, would you relax? No one else is even here." Galo is most used to the fireman carry, but he gets the feeling that Lio wouldn't appreciate that. Or bridal style either, for that matter.

He appraises Lio for a moment, then hooks an arm underneath Lio to create a seat for him and hefts him up. When Galo has the weight of another person settled, Lio sets an arm around his shoulders. He looks stupendously unimpressed. "This is ridiculous," Lio says flatly. "I've been in pain before, you know. I can handle a sprained ankle."

Galo does know that. The reminder still makes him scowl. "I didn't realize you walked around with your wounds unbandaged," he shoots back.

There's a noise of protest from Lio like he wants to argue but can't quite find the words. He's quiet for a moment, then puts his other arm around Galo's neck and says, "If you drop me, I'll lord it over your head for months."

He bites back a reflexive joke about Lio's height, but Galo can't contain the smile working its way onto his face. Truthfully, Lio isn't that heavy. He weighs about half what Galo does and, considering that Galo has been doing weight-training for years, it's going to take a while before his arm starts to strain. "You worry too much," Galo replies, earning himself a mocking snort and a swat on the back of the head.

Carrying Lio with one arm, Galo makes his way out of the gym. They make it down the stairs and to where Galo left his motorcycle without seeing another person. Lio tolerates the carrying up until Galo tries to set him on the bike himself. The resulting struggle and argument leaves both of them laughing too hard to get onto the motorcycle anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe I'm thinking about this too much, but I like scientific answers for everything. And since Promare took a really hard sci-fi turn right in the middle of the climax, I think it's justified.
> 
> Basically, my headcanon is that Burnish don't have the same structure as normal people. To hold a living fire inside of themselves and turn to ash when they die, they don't have muscles or blood or anything like that. They eat to "feed" the promare, as well as the parts of them that are still organic. Burnish age, obviously. I see their bodies as being literally skin-deep. There is nothing below the surface except for their promare, and their own personal consciousness. 
> 
> I want to do more with this idea of Lio not knowing how to feel in a normal body. I doubt that the change was easy for him.


	4. iv. it could be worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, it's another headcanon chapter. Enjoy!

"This is the biggest tent city we have," Lio explains to Galo as they walk. The smell of food cooking is heavy in the air. Lio waves back to the women hanging up their laundry and smiles at the children who run between their legs before shooing them on. Their destination is a big tent toward the center of the others. Galo isn't looking at him, absorbing the whole place with interest. "It's easier than having one enormous place to manage. People just sort of grouped up with who they already knew once they lost their Burnish status." Lio gestures to the south, though the view is blocked by the tents and people. "The second biggest one is in that direction. We call this one Prime."

"I wish that these tent cities weren't necessary." Galo makes a face. "There's so many people displaced that they've started popping up in the city, too. It's really sad."

Lio hums noncommittally. Typical government thing to do: trying to help everyone at once only to end up helping no one sufficiently. "It's not so bad for us," he assures Galo. "We're used to it. At least now we don't have to worry about being seen." He waves Galo into the central tent, the hub of this camp. The flap closes behind them, filtering out sunlight but doing a poor job of keeping the noise away.

Being out in the middle of an empty field has made it easy for the former-Burnish to settle down however they like. Bug nets have been made and bed rolls can be stitched out of the tall grasses. Tea and water are abundant, thanks to the nearby stream, and food shortages stopped a week ago once government donations arrived. So, it could be worse. It could be much, much worse. Lio is familiar enough with the alternatives to know that he ought to be grateful.

His people deserve better, absolutely. But this is progress in the right direction. He can settle for that, but only for so long.

"Yeah." Galo doesn't seem convinced. "I brought some of the paperwork you're gonna need. It's not as much as I was hoping for," he admits. The bundle of papers that he pulls from his backpack is thin. Lio can't help but feel disappointed too.

He takes the papers anyway, flicking through them briefly. It's barely any. Maybe enough for about a third of Prime. And that's only one of the tent cities. "What's holding them up?" He asks, even though Lio knows very well.

They're trying to rebuild, to keep the public calm and alive, to pull themselves together with half of their former politicians on trial for knowingly supporting Kray's work. It's a lot to ask of Promepolis' government, to bend over backwards for people who aren't even citizens, but it still leaves a bitter taste in Lio's mouth. He hates being realistic.

Galo shrugs with one shoulder awkwardly, looking ashamed even though this is in no way his fault. "I tried to get them to listen." He sighs. "I'm a public figure now, I guess, but it's not like I'm elected into anything. I don't have any real power."

Except he _does_ , that's the thing. Lio bites his tongue against the argument he feels rising up. Galo has pull with politicians now. He's become the face of the people overnight, a hero who saved the planet. The only problem is that, right now, people are too busy worrying about themselves and finding shelter and feeding their families to care about those who have it even worse. In a year or two, when things are normal again, Lio is sure that Galo could make a difference in governments around the world just by having people prop up his voice. But right now, asking for aid to the communities of the former-Burnish isn't going to get him any traction.

Lio forces a smile. "It's better than nothing," he allows. And it is. The papers he has are only for those who were registered citizens in Promepolis before their Burnish mutations. But getting them out of the tent cities will still help, if only marginally. This isn't the time to be picky.

"That's not saying much," Galo mutters. He's developed a tendency to pout when things aren't going his way — politics is nothing like firefighting, after all. It takes a lot of adjustment.

"Let's not worry about it now," Lio settles on. No sense stressing himself out over things he has no control over. He gestures for Galo to follow him, ignoring the rest of the paperwork sitting on his cardboard desk to head for the exit again. "Come on. I'll hand these over to Meis and you can meet him. Maybe Gueira, too, if he's back from the water run I sent him on."

With disappointment hanging over them, the walk back through the group is a lot less awe-inspiring for Galo. Lio zig-zags between families and slumping tents before, eventually, spotting a head of dark hair over by the food tent. They have their water issue solved but, for now, the food is still being strictly rationed.

"Meis!" Lio waves to get his attention as he approaches.

A brief nod settles things as Meis leaves his station to the other three people handing out food next to him. He ends up meeting Lio half-way in a one-armed embrace. "Nice to see you here for once, boss," Meis jokes. "City life isn't all it's cracked up to be?"

Lio rolls his eyes good-naturedly. "If you can call a two-story apartment building adjacent to farm land " _city life"_." He glances around, searching. "Is Gueira back yet? The three of you are near impossible to get in the same place and I wanted to introduce you both to Galo." Lio gestures to his left, where he can feel Galo hovering just behind. Anymore, he doesn't need to look. The ability to feel when Galo is in close proximity is hardly the most unusual thing going on in their lives at the moment.

"I don't think he is," Meis says with a shake of the head. "You know how he can be — if he were here, you'd know it."

It's not much, but Lio still manages a smile. "That's true. Too much to hope for, I suppose." He reaches behind him and grabs Galo by the wrist, tugging him forward. Moving his hand to Galo's shoulder, Lio says, "Anyway, this is Galo Thymos, my roommate. I mentioned him to you before. Galo, this is Meis. He's my right-hand man."

The two of them size each other up for a moment, then the lingering tension breaks when Galo grins and holds out his hand for a fist-bump. "Yo, nice to meet you. Lio talks a lot about all of the great work you do around here."

Meis' smile is more reserved as he returns Galo's fist-bump. "I don't do half of what the boss does," he replies, being modest — as usual. Lio rolls his eyes and Meis pretends not to notice, still speaking to Galo. "So, you're the firefighter that helped him save the world? Talk about irony."

"And you were the co-leader of the Mad Burnish before Lio joined, huh?" Galo responds.

He starts to say something else, probably a joke, but Lio isn't listening anymore. A thought occurs to him so sharply that it nearly gives him whiplash. Carefully, he drops his hand away from Galo's shoulder. The lack of touch doesn't go unnoticed. Galo's mouth snaps shut and he gives Lio a questioning look.

Finding his words takes a moment. "I…" Lio hesitates. "Galo, how did you know that Meis was the leader before me?"

That doesn't make any sense. He shouldn't know that. Lio knows that he's never mentioned it. And the Mad Burnish didn't become well-known until Lio started calling the shots. Before him, they were just a rogue Burnish group known for killing indiscriminately and without mercy. They didn't have media attention. No one paid attention to their rankings. Gueira and Meis had practically been the only active members.

His question wipes the confusion off of Galo's face. Suddenly, he looks dazed. Stunned, even. Galo sets a hand on his forehead and looks away, like he's staring at something far away. "I'm not sure," he mutters. He squeezes his eyes shut, expression pained. "I just feel like I was there when that happened. When the three of you met."

Lio feels his stomach sink into his knees. He shoots Meis a look, but he's far too confused to share Lio's concern. To Galo, he says, "That doesn't make any sense. You were nowhere near us when I became the leader of the Mad Burnish." He shakes his head and, more firmly, insists, "You were working your first day in Burning Rescue. You rescued a woman trapped in a burning building, remember? She became a Burnish, and your left arm—"

The force that Lio uses to shut his jaw makes his teeth ache. He freezes, eyes wide. He shouldn't know that, either. Lio's gaze is drawn to Galo's left arm. The white medical sleeve that Galo wears covers it, but it's never been more obvious. Lio has seen it plenty of times and never gave it a second thought. But now, suddenly, he can recall that day. He feels the spike of heat from the body in his arms as the Burnish women jerks awake. An audible hiss leaves Lio's mouth at the memory of how badly it had hurt, of the ache that settled into his bones long after the burn had been treated, how much pain he'd been in only to repress it in order to save face. Burned on his first day on the job? No, he couldn't complain— the other Burning Rescue members would never take him seriously if he did.

But that's not right. Lio checks his left arm just to be sure and, sure enough, he's uninjured. He's never been burned in his life. He was nowhere near that burning building when Galo was. So then, how does he remember it so clearly? How can he _feel_ it?

Meis has come up on Lio's right side, setting a hand on his arm. "Boss? Is something wrong?" He asks softly, being far more gentle than he should be.

He's half-tempted to jerk away, but suddenly, Lio doesn't have the energy to manage it. He stares dumbly at Meis instead. "I'm… not sure," he admits.

His attention turns to Galo. The look of shock, confusion, and dawning horror must be mirrored on Lio's face. It's no wonder that Meis is so concerned.

"We need to talk," Lio says. It's not a question. He puts one foot in front of the other very purposefully and grabs Galo by the wrist. (The right wrist, not the left wrist, because the left one still has sensory issues and it's no wonder that Galo favors his right side.) "We'll find somewhere private. I'll find you later, Meis!" He shouts over his shoulder, already dragging Galo off. The look on Lio's face is severe enough that Meis doesn't even try to follow.

He shoves Galo into the first empty tent that they come across. A quick glance around tells Lio that a family probably lives there, but he can't be bothered to care. If any of them return, he'll apologize profusely and try the next tent.

"What the fuck was _that_?" Galo hisses, doing his best job at keeping his voice down and failing spectacularly at it. He rubs his left wrist absently and Lio knows immediately, despite having never seen it before, that it's an anxious habit. "You weren't there. How did you know all of those things?"

Lio swallows thickly. He's unable to peel his eyes away from Galo's burnt arm. "I remember getting your burn," he whispers, afraid to admit it. "It's not just like I saw it, though. It's like I was _you_. I could feel it."

Silence. Galo's never been one for eloquence and, quite frankly. Lio feels like he's on the verge of a mental breakdown. Neither of them has anything to say.

"I think…" Galo begins slowly, running his fingers up and down the length of his left arm, "...that we might be sharing memories."

" _How_?" Lio can't help but snap. And _why_?

He wants to shout and cry for the frustration of it all. Growing up Burnish, Lio had only ever wished to be normal so that he could fit it with everyone else. When he'd become the leader of the Mad Burnish, his goal hadn't changed: he still wanted equal treatment. And now he's an average human with a heart and lungs and blood and everything— and things _still_ find a way to get worse. The mounting political pressure and the responsibility on Lio's shoulders is bad enough, but _this_? He has no idea what's happening or how to even begin to temper it.

Of course, the answer to Lio's question becomes obvious with just a moment of thought. The answer hits him so suddenly that he actually has to take a step back. "It was when we were fused together," Lio mutters. There's no enthusiasm in his voice.

Galo shifts where he's standing, holding his hands uncomfortably at his sides. "That makes sense," he agrees in a small voice, not looking at Lio. "First there's that weird feeling, like we need to be together. And now we're sharing memories." He shrugs and tries for a smile. "It could be worse, right?"

Outwardly, Lio nods. Mostly because he feels like if he doesn't get some good news soon he's going to absolutely lose it. But inwardly, Lio wishes that he could still set things on fire with the flick of his wrist.

True, it could be worse. That doesn't make their current situation any better and it doesn't tell Lio what he needs to do to fix it. His only hope is that he doesn't have _all_ of Galo's memories, and that they're not all as vivid as the memory of receiving that burn.

He hopes that Galo doesn't think too hard on any memories that he got from Lio. (And he hopes that Galo didn't get any of the bad ones.)


	5. v. daring to light a fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's two in the morning for me and I have work in the morning, but I'm Bored and Incredibly Tired, so bam, you guys get an update. Congrats.

Galo pushes back the tarp covering the front of the Burning Rescue building and lets himself in. Despite the need for repairs, with the debris cleared out, it looks more or less the same as it always has. Everyone's area is still put together.

It looks mostly empty, though. Galo is put off by that for a moment, until he realizes that all of their vehicles are still in place and none of the alarms are going off. He looks around, confused, but doesn't have to wait for answers for long.

"Oh, Galo!" Aina jerks up from where she'd been lounging in her area, fiddling with her things with apparently nothing to do. She dusts her clothes off, flustered even as she makes her way over to him. "What are you doing here?" Aina asks as she stops in front of him.

The question is left ignored, because Galo is still unsure about where everyone is. "Where is everyone?" He asks Aina. Galo finally spots Remi hunched over his desk, a stack of papers in front of him. He's frowning at whatever the paperwork is telling him, but he still glances up and spares a wave that Galo returns.

Aina tilts her head to the side, thinking about it. "Ignis left a while ago. They're having a meeting downtown that all of the local chapters have to attend. I don't know when he'll be back." She sets a hand on her hip and jerks a thumb toward the back of the building. "And Varys and Lucia are holed up back there trying to fix the plumbing. It was either that or wait for a repair shop to come out."

Now that she's mentioned it, Galo can hear faint metallic banging, followed by what sounds like swears. He laughs. "Hey, Varys! Nice to see you, Lucia!" He shouts towards the back.

There's a thud, then Lucia's voice replies, "You have the worst timing imaginable!" Followed by, "Damnit, Varus, _hold it steady_!" And the rest is drowned out by his reply until both of their voices settle back to being inaudible.

Galo laughs again and Aina joins in. Once they've both calmed down some, she repeats herself, "So, what _are_ you doing here?"

"Just checking in," Galo says with a one-armed shrug. "I mean, what if there was a fire and you guys needed my help?"

"If we needed help," Remi interrupts, not looking up from his work, "we would call the nearest available group. _Not_ you." He shoots Galo a smile. "You're supposed to be on paid leave for the time being."

Ugh. Paid leave. Galo fights not to roll his eyes. That was just a nice way of suspending him. He hadn't done anything wrong but, until the legal matters were settled in court, the superiors had decided that it was best not to ask for more drama. So he gets money, sure, but Galo hasn't been firefighting in _ages_ and he hates it.

"You're not missing much," Aina pretends to whisper, holding her hand over her mouth as if they're exchanging a secret. "Since you got rid of the Burnish, we've had practically no fires. I think they're going to start downsizing us soon."

Right. No Burnish means a lot less demand for firefighters. Galo struggles not to be disappointed and fails. What else is he supposed to do with his life?

Then Galo processes the middle part of what Aina said and he immediately objects to it.

"I didn't save the world on my own. Lio did a lot of the heavy lifting," Galo points out. Instead of apologizing and correcting herself, Aina just stares at him, like she's not quite sure what to say. He frowns for a moment, then quickly shakes it off and forces his smile back into place. "Anyway, don't worry, I'm not here for work." He puffs his chest out proudly. "Since we have room at the apartment, I came by to get my matoi."

Aina snorts. "That thing? You actually kept it?"

Indignation bristles hotly down his spine and Galo straightens. "Of course I did!" The idea that she would ever imply that he _wouldn't_ is astounding to him. Sure, maybe his homemade one isn't as useful in combat or as stunning to look at as the one Lucia made for him, but it's still important to him. And also, Lucia's is technically property that belongs to Burning Rescue, so Galo can't take it home. He gestures widely with his hands as he starts to rant. "Matoi were a _hugely_ important firefighting tool in the Edo period. The first _hikeshi_ weren't established until the 1640s, after the Fire of—"

" _Galo_ ," Aina whines, setting a hand on her temple. "You've gone over this at least a dozen times! _Please_ don't do it again."

His lips thin and Galo thinks for a fleeting moment that he wouldn't have to repeat himself if _any_ of his coworkers cared enough to listen the first time. But it isn't in his nature to be bitter or think poorly of people so Galo soon finds himself smiling again. "Fine, if you want to get rid of me so badly. I'll just go grab it." He sticks his tongue out at Aina and walks over to his area, where he left it. "I need to get back to the apartment, anyway. Lio's out on official business for his tent cities right now and it's my night to cook dinner."

He hears Aina move to follow him and, down the hall, a metal pipe clangs. Aina doesn't seem to notice. Galo is digging for his matoi under his desk, but he spares a look at her over his shoulder. She's got her arms behind her back, shifting where she's standing and biting her lip.

He pauses what he's doing, turning to face her fully. Galo tilts his head curiously. "Is something wrong?" He asks, because it's obvious that something is.

Aina straightens as if she hadn't expected him to notice. She starts to shake her head, then pauses. "I just…" There's a smile on her face that doesn't reach her eyes. "You really care about him, don't you? Lio, I mean. Obviously." She twists a strand of hair around her finger, looking at a point over Galo's shoulder. "You're always talking about him, and you take living with him so seriously even though you barely know each other, and I think this is the first time I've seen you without him since… well, since you saved the world."

Everything she had said before that suddenly falls away. Galo's eyes narrow and, before he can think far enough ahead to stop himself, he says, "I told you that it was me _and_ Lio. Both of us, together. I didn't do any of that by myself."

She doesn't respond, apparently too stunned to work out an appropriate response. Her mouth opens and closes as Aina struggles for words, but she never gets the chance.

"Nice of you to show up for once, Galo!" Varys' voice booms as he leaves the boiler room with Lucia hot on his heels. "I was starting to think that you'd forgotten about us. But life must get pretty hectic when you become a celebrity overnight, huh?"

Galo spares a glance at Aina, then straightens back up with his matoi in hand and turns away from her. He has a funny feeling that whatever she had wanted to say wasn't going to be an apology. "I'm not a _celebrity_ ," he protests. "And what are you talking about? I was here just last week to help Lucia out with repairs."

From where she's digging through her things for who-knows-what, Lucia barks out a laugh. "Yeah, then you managed to make it worse _and_ got me an hour-long lecture from Captain Hardass!" She resurfaces with a power drill in hand and shakes her head, her blonde buns bouncing. "I still don't see what the big deal is. If someone _wants_ to work on paid leave, why not let them?"

There's a tired sigh from Remi. He doesn't even bother to look up at them. "It's a liability issue," is all he says, with the tone of someone who had explained it a dozen times in much more detail and didn't care enough to try again.

Varys takes a swig of water from a bottle at his station and wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand when he's done. "To be fair, how was Galo supposed to be able to concentrate with _Lio_ hanging off of him like that?" His tone is teasing, but there's a sing-songy lit to Lio's name that Galo doesn't like. He isn't even sure what he's being teased about.

"Lio doesn't "hang off" of me," Galo says. He sees Aina's expression tighten and chooses to ignore it. When the only response is Lucia and Varys giggling over shared glances, Galo can't help but turn red with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "What? What is it, what's so funny?"

"I think this is the only time I've seen you without him since— well, since you two _met_!" Varys laughs loudly. "You drag each other everywhere, it's so obvious. We've even got a nickname for Lio."

Honestly, Galo isn't sure that he wants to know what it is. But he doesn't get a say, because Lucia bursts out laughing, hard enough that she startles Vinny awake and he falls off of her desk. She doesn't notice and gasps out, "We started calling him "Galo's shadow"! You two run errands together, live together, constantly talk about each other, I bet you even share bed rolls at night— you're like newlyweds! When was the wedding, and why wasn't I invited?"

The flush to Galo's face creeps down his neck and up the tips of his ears, until he's certain that he must be glowing. The teasing and ribbing from his coworkers doesn't bother him, but the implications do. Does he really spend that much time with Lio? He hadn't noticed. Come to think of it, they do share bed rolls sometimes, if one of them has a nightmare. But friends do that, don't they? They're not _newlyweds_.

"Oh, knock it off, guys," Aina cuts in with an unimpressed huff. "So they enjoy each other's company. That doesn't mean they're _dating_." She hesitates, unsure, and sends Galo a questioning look. "Right?"

The grip that Galo has on his matoi tightens. He thins his lips and doesn't answer her. "I should go," he says instead. "Lio's going to be home soon, and—"

Of course, that gets another peel of laughter from Lucia, and Varys makes kissy faces. Galo grits his teeth and stalks out of the building. He hears Aina call out for him and ignores it, his whole body unpleasantly hot and his chest twisted. It's just some harmless teasing, so why does he _care_ so much?

It's brisk outside, with winter approaching, and Galo lets himself enjoy it. The air cools him off. He's always liked being cold more than being hot, anyway. He attaches his matoi to a strap that he sets around his torso, keeping it in place against his back while Galo drives his motorcycle.

His apartment with Lio is out of city limits, so it's a long drive, but Galo doesn't mind. The cold bites into his skin, the wind makes his clothes and hair snap painfully. He lets it chase away his thoughts, leaving them far behind, in the suffocating atmosphere of the Burning Rescue building. He feels hollow. For as long as Galo can remember, he's loved firefighting. But ever since he relit Lio's fire, it hasn't felt right. Is that the problem? Did he ruin it for himself by daring to light a fire?

Maybe. It seems ridiculous but, even if that is the case, Galo doesn't regret his choice. He'd choose Lio's life again and again, every single time.

When he eventually gets home, Galo's skin is a sharp red from the cold. The sun is low on the horizon and it's cold enough now that he's grateful to park his motorcycle and hurry inside. Warmth hits him like a wall and he relaxes gratefully. He leaves his shoes at the genkan and, matoi in hand, heads deeper into the house. He wonders what he's going to make for dinner.

"Welcome back," Lio says, surprising Galo. He turns and, sure enough, Lio is sitting just out of sight from the entrance hall. The smile on his face is reflexive, yet still genuine. "I was wondering how long you would be out."

Now that he's thinking about it, maybe _that_ was the source of Galo's emptiness: the distance between himself and Lio. Because now that they're in the same room, speaking casually, Galo feels a hundred times lighter. He can't even remember why he'd been upset.

"I could say the same to you. Weren't you out on business?" Galo asks, setting his matoi down, propped carefully against the wall. He'll hang it up once he's done with dinner… if Lio doesn't mind, anyway.

Lio waves his hand dismissively and lowers his phone. Whatever he'd been doing before Galo walked in is, apparently, unimportant. "There was a housing shortage. The problem was easily solved with some rearranging and impromptu "borrowing"." There's a curve to his smile that isn't at all innocent.

Galo tries to look upset, but he must be doing a poor job of it because Lio looks seconds away from laughing. "Don't tell me you stole tents from someone's shop," he says, crossing his arms to give the appearance of being stern.

There's a shrug from Lio as he stands up and stretches. "I didn't see a shop," he says without holding eye-contact. "Just an unattended pile of rubble." Before Galo can say anything more, Lio steps closer, eyeing Galo's matoi. "Is that what you went out for? What is it?"

It's a clear attempt to change the subject, but Galo finds that he doesn't mind. Lio doesn't seem to think that the matoi is weird or pointless, and his tone is far from judgmental. Galo takes it in his hands again, turning it over with a proud grin. "It's called a matoi. It was invented in the Edo period as an important tool in firefighting." His smile slips and, suddenly, Galo can't quite bring himself to meet Lio's eyes. "But you probably don't want to hear about it."

"I don't remember saying that," Lio is quick to disagree. "But it _is_ getting late… Tell me about it while we make dinner?"

One look at Lio's face is all the convincing that Galo needs. He nods once, beaming. "Okay."


	6. vi. perfectly normal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, but I think it's pretty cute. 
> 
> In my free time, I also made a Lio/Galo AMV **[HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONnAfTYwfiU)** if you guys want to watch it.

It hurts.

On some levels, it's familiar. Lio has been hurt before, sure. Plenty of times. But it's never felt like _this_ , exactly.

It stings, it aches, it _burns_. He clutches his wrist with a wince and stares at the wound he's apparently made, skin split and an irritated red as blood drips down the curve of his hand. He's seen normal humans bleed before, so it's not a mystery what's happening.

It's just never happened to _him_.

Distantly, Lio starts thinking about what he should do. First aid was so much easier before he lost the promare. Because all he had to do was give it time and not push himself too hard and everything healed on its own, left alone. What do normal humans do for this sort of thing? Shouldn't the bleeding have stopped already? Lio is dripping blood into the mushrooms he'd been slicing and his hand is beginning to tremble.

There's a noise of surprise from the kitchen doorway and Lio only has time to blink in that direction before Galo is upon him.

His bigger hand covers the one that Lio has on his wrist already and Galo brings his hand up to look at it closer. "Did you cut yourself?" He asks.

Lio shrugs. The cut is starting to hurt more. "Obviously."

Galo chooses not to respond to that. He knows first aid, he mentioned that during their first non-confrontational conversation. "It doesn't look that bad. Hold on, let me get my first aid kit."

He leaves then to get the kit and Lio is left standing in the kitchen alone, clutching his wrist dumbly. Blood is still dripping, onto the counter and the tile floor. It will probably stain. Lio thinks that he should clean it up, but he doesn't want to make the mess worse.

Footsteps announce Galo's return and he makes another funny noise that Lio can't describe. The first aid kit is set down with a clatter and Galo returns to his side in a hurry. "Why are you just standing there? You need to rinse the cut off." He drags Lio the few steps over to the sink and turns on the cold water, sticking his hand under the faucet.

"Oh," is all Lio says, voice trembling too much for him to sound as uninterested as he wants to be.

It doesn't fool Galo for even a moment. He glances at Lio before grabbing some soap, gently lathering the skin around the cut, talking all the while. "Are you hurt somewhere else? I don't think you lost a lot of blood, and this cut isn't deep enough to need stitches. _Why_ were you just standing around and staring at it?"

His shoulders shake. Lio doesn't know what to do as his lower lip begins to tremble. "I'm not sure." Heat pricks the corner of his eyes. The cold water has made it easier to ignore the pain in his hand. "I'm sorry."

Of course, Galo doesn't miss that. He pauses what he's doing and turns the water off. His hands are still wet and a little soapy but, gentle as can be, he cups Lio's face and peers down into his eyes. "I'm not angry," he mutters, and it should be stupid that Lio is so reliant on hearing that, but he relaxes all the same. Galo's fingers stroke along the underside of his jaw. "Why didn't you do anything about the cut?"

The insistence doesn't seem important at the moment, but Lio looks away and gives his answer anyway. "I've never had blood before." Embarrassment tinges his answer and his face feels hot. "I didn't know how to take care of it."

There's a snicker from Galo as a smile comes to his face. "Oh, right. I keep forgetting about that." He lets go of Lio's face and takes his hand instead, leading him over to the counter where the first aid kit was set. "Here, I'll show you. So, first you clean the wound, which we've already done. Then you take an antibiotic and…" He takes a tube of white cream in hand and squeezes a little out onto his finger, rubbing it into the wound. Lio winces but doesn't pull away. "...apply it gently. It helps prevent an infection." He doesn't know what an infection is, either, but Lio doesn't want to interrupt. "Because it's on your finger, you'll wrap it with thin gauze. That helps so that you don't lose mobility." He takes a strip of bandages no thicker than a fingernail and wraps Lio's pointer finger, just tight enough to be felt. "Are you okay?"

Lio is still staring at his wrapped hand, so answering takes him a moment. "Yes," he allows, looking back up at Galo. He flexes his hand to feel the gauze shift. "It doesn't hurt. Thank you."

That should be the end of it, but Galo shakes his head. "I wasn't asking if it hurt. I was asking if you were _okay_." He doesn't force Lio to maintain eye contact, but Galo's stare can be felt digging into him anyway. "Lio?"

He never holds out for very long. The sound of his name wins, _again_. "I just feel like an idiot," Lio says bitterly, glaring at the floor. He needs to wipe up those blood splatters. "I know what blood is. I have your memories, too. I should have been able to utilize common sense and take care of this myself. But I— I wasn't thinking. I don't know what happened."

Galo seems unbothered. He shrugs. "Going into mild shock is typical of injuries like this. And if it's the first time you've been cut, I can hardly blame you." He takes Lio's hands and, when he dares to look up, Galo's smile is easy and genuine. "This is perfectly normal. Trust me."

It feels like a punch to the gut. Lio's eyes widen. _Normal_? He ruminates on it for a moment. Squeezing Galo's hands helps calm his breathing, undo the knot lodged in his chest. "Okay," he agrees a little breathlessly. "I'm okay. I trust you."

Galo's smile turns positively _beaming_ , which is not helping Lio regain his breathing. "Great!" He glances over at the bloody mess over the cutting board. "I'll help you clean up. We can just order takeout tonight if you want. You haven't eaten today, have you?"

"No." Shame curls in Lio's gut and is quickly squashed when Galo only hums — a noise like he's not surprised, but also not disappointed or judgemental. It's supposed to be Lio's night to cook, but he takes the opportunity and seizes it anyway. "Take out would be great." He softens. "Thank—"

"No need to thank me for anything," Galo says dismissively. Lio shuts his mouth, but he can't quite swallow his smile. Galo lets go of one of his hands to pull his phone out of his pocket instead. "So, what's the number of that sushi place you like, again?"


	7. vii. so, so small

Galo did a little bit of research into the festival before they attended. The Chichibu Night Festival was held in the city of Chichibu every December, before that whole section of Japan was burned during the Great World Blaze. That specific incident took Tokyo with it, among other cities.

The city that's been built in Chichibu's place is smaller and a lot less festive. Who has time for festivals when everything could be burned down at a moment's notice? So for the last thirty years, there's been no festivals of any kind. As far as Galo can tell, there's no real reason to have this one, either. It was originally held to honor and celebrate the Chichibu Shrine, which no longer exists.

Now, he supposes, it's being used by the city's politicians to try and boost morale. Even this far away from Promepolis, the effects of what Kray tried to do are extensive. There's a fissure running down the middle of New Chichibu that leaked magma when a new volcano began sprouting just ten miles away.

The festival is for the people now. Lio even arranges something with the city's mayor to have the former-Burnish who live in nearby tent cities formally invited to attend, as a show of unity during troubled times for everyone. It's supposed to be about healing and togetherness.

During Galo's surface-level research into the festival, he'd stumbled upon a few mentions of the breathtaking, two-hour long firework show that took place at the end of the festival's second night. He realizes now, belatedly, that he should have paid more attention to that. He should have at least told Lio about it.

Another flurry of fireworks bursts overhead and Lio flinches. He has his hands clamped over his ears and makes a noise that sounds a little too close to a sob. As soon as he noticed something was wrong, Galo got them away from the crowd and hunkered down in a cramped space between two buildings so they could have some privacy. Like this, they can't see the fireworks, only the faint colors that light up the night sky. Galo wonders if not being able to see them helps or makes it worse.

He takes hold of Lio's hands. His fingers are frigid and Galo feels guilt rise in his chest. Lio hates the cold. Ever since he lost his promare, Lio can't retain body heat and he's never hesitated to express his bitterness about it. He's only at the festival to show solidarity with the rest of the former-Burnish. As their leader, Lio had argued, he's expected to be there, to be strong so that everyone else knows that they don't have to be afraid.

Now, ducking his head from every crack in the sky and trying to curl into a ball, Lio looks the furthest thing from "strong." He untangles his fingers from Galo's, but Lio isn't pulling away. He's pushing closer, sliding his hands under Galo's winter jacket to grip his shirt, curling his fingers along Galo's shoulders to leech off of his body heat. Automatically, Galo puts his arms around Lio to keep him there, shifting from kneeling to sitting down so that Lio can slide into his lap and keep himself off of the frozen, dirty ground.

"Sorry, sorry," Galo murmurs as a burst of fireworks go off. "If I'd known that the fireworks were going to be a problem, I wouldn't have brought you. Or, at least, I would have made sure we could leave early." He knows that Lio is too stubborn to have let himself stay home for an event like this. The fact that he's here at all, even though everything about this is something that Lio hates, says enough.

For a while, they're quiet. Lio doesn't seem to want to talk and Galo doesn't blame him. In the distance, people are cheering. It's nice to see some of the emotional and mental damage that's been done finally healing, even if the night is shaping up to be more of a step backward for Lio. Galo bites his lip, worried, then lets out his tension as a sigh.

Reaching up, Galo takes hold of one of Lio's hands, curling their fingers together reassuringly. He leans back just enough to look at Lio's face. It's too dark to be sure, and maybe Galo is just being paranoid, but for a moment he thinks that Lio's face is damp with tears.

"Tell me about it," he encourages gently, quietly, almost pleading. "You've never talked about it. Maybe it'll help if you get it off your chest."

Galo doesn't know what the problem is. Which memory is Lio reliving? He tries to flick through the ones of Lio's that he has but, without any real way to know what he's looking for, they all blur together with each other and his own, until Galo is left with a sensory nightmare and the beginnings of a headache.

He can't do anything to help if Lio doesn't let him. And that's the worst part, Galo thinks. That all he can do is sit here and hold Lio instead of going out and punching whatever's bothering him. He knows that it's not usually this bad, too. It's the shock, he thinks. Lio was having a good time at the festival, smiling and laughing. He was so relaxed, his guard lowered. That moment of vulnerability could have cost him if the fireworks had been real guns.

Lio shakes his head and ducks his face again. For a moment, Galo is discouraged, but it doesn't last long. A squeeze to his hand gets his attention, and that's the only warning Galo gets before his vision flashes white.

_He's small. So, so small. When he cries out and scrambles back, on hands and knees through the dirt, he's all skin and bones and knobby joints. He swears sometimes that he can hear his bones clicking._

_There are tears in his eyes. The man above him, reloading his gun, doesn't seem to notice. "Get lost, vermin!" He spits, and there's so much hatred on his face. The man's wife stands at his side, clutching his shoulder from just behind. Inside the house behind them, a little girl is crying._

_"I—I did-n't mean to—" He stutters, still trying to excuse himself. The bullet lodged in the grass a foot from where he'd been standing ought to be enough for him to know that this family doesn't want excuses, but he keeps trying anyway. "It was an— an acci-dent, I'm— I'm not—"_

_"Leave!" The woman interrupts him, crying and trembling. "Don't make us end you here!"_

_He hadn't meant to. It was an accident. He still can't control the flames very well. They'd just been playing. That little girl… She was his friend. And now she's screaming and crying over a bloody burn because of him. It's his fault._

_The man says something else, inaudible through the ringing in his ears._ Scared _, is the word that comes to mind. These people are terrified of him. Of what he is. What he can do._

_Staring down the muzzle of that gun, the man's finger twitches for the trigger. Noise returns to the world as he lurches to his feet. As he runs, there's another gunshot. He hopes that it was meant as a warning, but he doubts it._

Galo comes back to his own body with a sharp inhale. His head spins. He's glad he's sitting, because he can't imagine being steady on his feet right now. They've experimented with sharing memories before, usually snippets from each other's days. Mostly just to share the feelings, not so much the details.

He's never re-lived one of Lio's memories quite like _that_ before. Galo blinks and realizes, blearily, that he's crying. Not his tears, though. It's not his pain.

"Was that… the first time?" He asks, whispering not because he's afraid of someone overhearing, but because any louder and he fears Lio will run off.

But Lio only nods, burrowing himself deeper into Galo's embrace. It feels intimate, in a way that things with Lio usually don't. Not because their relationship isn't intimate, but because Galo isn't usually so aware of it. He doesn't have any memories from Lio that involve clinging to another person like this.

Overhead, the fireworks continue to boom. Galo knows Lio doesn't want to move because to move would mean risking people seeing him like this, but they can't stay here. So Galo gathers Lio more securely and stands, ignoring the soft noise of protest. He pulls Lio's winter cap down lower with one hand. At least if someone sees them, they won't recognize the leader of the former-Burnish.

The streets where they are have been all but emptied, with most people having gathered closer to the firework display. There are a few drunkards stumbling their way back to their hotels. Galo is glad that he at least had the foresight to rent a room, and he makes a beeline for it. It's not far enough to silence the fireworks, but hopefully, it's enough to help.

Lio shudders against him and Galo grits his teeth. "Show me another one," he demands, despite his better judgment. "I want to see them all." He doesn't, not really. But he knows that Lio needs to share them with someone.

He just hopes that he's not in any of these memories.

After a moment's consideration, Lio's hand snakes under his jacket, his bare, freezing palm settling against the side of Galo's neck. Another memory swims in front of him. Galo's stride doesn't break.


	8. viii. if it hurts (or not)

As good as the pizza they're eating is, Lio can't stomach it. He thins his lips and narrows his eyes, watching Aina hang off of Galo's arm while she chatters on about… Something to do with her sister, maybe? Lio hasn't been paying attention.

There are a few reasons why Lio doesn't like to hang out with the Burning Rescue team. For one, they're not really _his_ friends. For two, he feels like they ought to be.

The problem with having Galo's memories is that, sometimes, they strike him unexpectedly. Much like his own memories. If Remy is telling a story about the first time that Galo used the matoi-tech that Lucia designed for him, then Lio can remember it. He can remember the excitement, the rush of adrenaline, the way that his face had hurt from smiling for days after. He can look at everyone sitting around the table with him and summon forth memory after memory that makes his chest tight with _real_ fondness.

And it drives Lio crazy. He doesn't know these people and he feels like he's intruding upon something private by pretending that he does.

...Which brings him back to Aina.

They're sitting outside of a pizza parlor which, as far as Lio can tell by thinking about it long enough, is the group's usual hangout. Galo said something about it reopening recently, which brings to mind some recollection about the owner and one of his employees being arrested. Lio doesn't think too much about that one because, at that point, it starts to induce a headache. The fact that their table is circular allows Lio to sit next to Galo, but it also allows Aina to sit on Galo's other side and invalidate his personal space.

Lio watches them and tries to decide how he feels about it. It shouldn't matter how he feels about it, but something about it just _bothers_ him. He ignores the conversations around him, ignores the half-eaten pizza slice in his hand, ignores the gnawing feeling of _definitely-not-jealousy_ making his chest tight, and _thinks_ , long and hard.

It's obvious to anyone who watches Aina talk to Galo for longer than five seconds that she has a crush on him. Lio figured it out approximately two minutes after meeting her. The situation seems fairly cut and dry to him. Peeking through Galo's memories, and giving himself a migraine in the process, Lio realizes something else that's not quite as obvious.

_He's got his arms around her waist, holding Aina in a low dip suspended above the frozen lake. The stars in the sky are reflected in her eyes and the light of the setting sun makes the ice around them seem almost ethereal. It's a storybook setting for a first kiss._

_And he blanches. Aina's leaning up ever-so-slightly, her body tense — out of nervousness, maybe? Her face is scrunched up, but she's not trying to pull away. He can feel her heart hammering and her face is flushed. He doesn't know how to get out of this situation without making things awkward. They had been having such a nice moment, talking to each other, and now she's expecting him to kiss her._

_He averts his eyes, wanting to look somewhere else — anywhere else. It's only when he sees movement in the ice that he finds the excuse he needs. So, with that in mind, he drops her. Aina hits the ice with an annoyed grunt and he only feels a little bit bad._

Galo is _entirely_ aware of Aina's crush on him. And he's not saying anything, he's not _doing_ anything about it. Somehow, it's not surprising. But, as childish as he's being, Lio still finds it _annoying_.

He wants Galo to either get together with Aina, or tell her off, because watching her attempt to flirt while Galo focuses with startling intensity on a point over her shoulder is getting old. It's not that Lio is _jealous_ or anything. No, of course not. Why would he be? His relationship with Galo is so much closer than Aina's is, and—

Trying to justify it to himself is just making Lio more flustered. It doesn't matter! It doesn't matter and he doesn't need to make his relationship with Galo into a competition.

He does, however, need to drag his roommate aside and have a talk.

Lio waits patiently, intent not to make a scene, and gets his chance when Galo finishes his drink. Abruptly, Lio stands, taking both of their cups with him. "Galo, you should come with me to get a refill," he says, his voice flat.

It's not a tone that would work with anyone except Galo. His smile disappears and, sensing that Lio isn't happy, Galo stands without a word. The conversation carries on cleanly without them as Lio leads the way from their outside table to the restaurant's door. He holds it open for Galo and, right before following him inside, Lio happens to look over and lock eyes with Aina. She has her lips pursed, an uncomfortable expression on her face. When she sees him staring back, she looks away, but not before Lio sees a flash of annoyance in her eyes.

Considering how petty _he's_ feeling, Lio can hardly blame Aina for that.

Once inside, Galo dispenses with the pretense of getting a refill and takes the empty cups from Lio's hands. He tosses them in the correct bin on their way by and makes a beeline for the restrooms at the back. They don't enter, but they stand at the end of the little hall, giving them some semblance of privacy from the other patrons.

"Is something wrong?" Galo asks seriously, and Lio suddenly feels silly and guilty about dragging him away from his friends for something this unimportant.

But it has to be said eventually, right? Lio has gotten tired of waiting. "Nothing's wrong," he assures Galo. "I just… couldn't help but notice how close Aina was sitting to you."

Galo's expression is unreadable, the worry gone. "Yeah?"

Agitated, Lio continues. "And every time we hang out with your Burning Rescue crew, she finds some excuse to stick herself to your side. She texts you all the time. _Don't give me that look_ , Galo, I have your memories. I know she's always been shy about this, but you're not _that_ dense. She's gotten fed up with being patient and subtle, so—" Lio struggles for a moment to find the words, "—so why haven't you asked her out yet? Or just reject her and be done with it, at least?"

He _knows_ that he's not imagining it. Galo has dozens and dozens of memories that make for great examples. Aina had just been a friendly coworker when they first met, then she had started showing greater care for him and shyly trying to flirt, and now she's doing everything but crawling into his lap in public and Galo _still hasn't said anything about it_. _Why_? Lio knows that it isn't because Galo enjoys the attention, so what can be the reason?

The mask that he's wearing cracks and Galo frowns. "I don't see why I have to say anything about it," he mutters. "So she likes me. Who cares?"

Lio swallows a retort of " _I care,"_ and instead says, "It's just the polite thing to do. Stringing her along like this is unnecessary. If you're aware of how she feels, just turn her down so she can get over it and move on."

Here, Galo's expression turns uncomfortable. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I've never turned anyone down before," he admits sheepishly. "No one has ever really hit on me. Or, maybe they did, and I didn't notice." He tilts his head to the side, thinking. "As I was growing up, I put all of my energy into becoming a member of Burning Rescue. I passed all my entrance tests easily, but I still barely had enough training time for them to accept me. I guess I never paid attention to any possible relationships." He bites his lip. "To be honest, my co-workers at Burning Rescue are the first friends I've had since…" He trails off.

A pang of sympathy makes Lio wince. He doesn't need to ask if Galo is okay: the memories of the first year or so after his family died in that house fire are sharp and painful, even with so many years separating them from the present day. But Galo doesn't dwell on them the way that Lio does. Maybe that's the difference between the fires in their souls: Galo uses his to fuel his future and Lio uses his past to fuel him at all.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. A woman leaves the restroom and Lio waits until she's out of earshot to say, "Do you like Aina at all?"

The smile that Galo gives him is hesitant and crooked. "Well, she's… nice," he allows. "And pretty, I guess. But, see— I— I mean, the thing is… I'm not— That is to say, I'm, uh, I'm actually gay."

Lio blinks. He lowers the arms that he's had folded over his chest and, for a moment, doesn't know how to reply. But a moment is all that he allows himself, because Galo's expression is turning self-conscious at a rampant rate and Lio isn't about to allow that. "Oh. That explains a lot." He nods. "Well… You could just tell Aina that, couldn't you? Tell her that you're flattered, but you're not interested in women."

"You don't care?" Galo blurts out. "I mean, it doesn't bother you?"

"What?" Lio can't help but be taken aback. It's not like Galo to be so _insecure_. "No, of course not. I haven't had a lot of time in my life for dating, either, but I know that I'm attracted to, well, you know… _both_." He colors faintly. It's not that Lio's embarrassed by it, but he's never once had this conversation before and it feels like this is the most painful way possible for them both to come clean.

"Oh." Galo says nothing after that, refusing to make eye contact. The silence between them feels far too heavy.

After a solid minute without speaking, Lio can't take it anymore. He clears his throat, desperate to do _anything_ other than stand there in silence. The others must know by now that they aren't coming back with drink refills. "You can speak to Aina about it then, can't you? I'm sure she won't think any less of you for it," Lio reassures him. He's not sure if Galo is worried about Aina's reaction so much as he is stressing himself about the process itself. But if Aina _does_ treat Galo as lesser for his sexuality, Lio is confident in saying that Galo could do better for a friend.

"I guess." Galo still doesn't seem sure, but he's at least resigned. He sighs. "I just don't like to upset people. But you're right. I have to turn her down eventually."

Reaching out, Lio sets a hand on Galo's arm. It immediately soothes the hollow sensation in his chest. Most of the time, Lio doesn't even notice that it's there: that empty sensation, the sense that something is missing, the fundamental _lack_ of something that he _needs_. Lio has gotten used to it. It's there whenever he's not touching Galo, and distance only makes it worse and worse.

His touch seems to calm Galo down, too, as his shoulders slump and relax. Lio smiles. "I'm sure she'll appreciate your honesty more than continuing to embarrass herself by chasing someone who isn't interested," he says reassuringly.

Galo smiles, and it's at least half genuine. "Yeah, okay. I get it. I'll talk to her." He pauses. Then he sets a hand over Lio's, curling their fingers together and giving a little squeeze. "And, uh, thanks. For talking to me about this. I guess I'm not as good at acting as I thought I was." He chuckles. "Everyone thinks I have no idea that she's into me."

_It's not that_ , Lio wants to say, but he holds himself back. It's not that Galo is a bad actor, it's that Lio never takes his eyes off of him. It's that Lio has his memories. It's that neither of them can stand to be apart and Lio isn't sure if he minds all that much anymore. He's never believed in souls before, let alone something like soulmates, but…

But the back of a pizza parlor near the restrooms isn't the place to talk about this. Lio huffs, shakes his head, looks away. He doesn't let go of their hands. "You don't give yourself enough credit. We should get out there before the others start to think that we ran off."

There's a funny look on Galo's face: like he doesn't think that's a good idea. "Guess we should," he agrees anyway, and he lets go of Lio's hand to walk away.

The sensation of touch is missed immediately but, more than that, Lio feels a chill seep beneath his skin. It's been so hard to get warm since he lost the promare but, when Galo touches him, Lio feels like he's burning. Like he's on fire and he doesn't care if it hurts or not.

He follows Galo back outside and, of course, they're met with laughter and teasing from the rest of the group. They had, after all, been gone for more than five minutes and made no effort to bring anything resembling a "refill" back with them.

But Lio doesn't care about that. He's only got eyes for Galo, watching as he walks up to Aina and politely taps her on the shoulder. Galo says something quietly to her that Lio doesn't hear, that he doesn't try to listen in on, and she gets up and follows Galo some distance away from the table.

As she passes Lio, Aina smiles. It's a tight, sad thing, but Lio relaxes. She knows. She's not stupid, either. There are no hard feelings. Why would there be? This is something that neither of them could change, and nothing Aina had done or ever will do would affect the outcome or delay the inevitable.

Lio reclaims his seat and joins back into the conversation so that no one tries to talk about Galo or Aina and end up teasing them. He waits patiently for Galo to come back, at his side, where it feels like he was always meant to be.

No, maybe Lio doesn't fit as neatly into his new, war-free life as much as he wishes that he did. Maybe he's not good at making friends with people that he already feels that he's met, or at adjusting to the physical weights of "normal" humanity, or negotiating peacefully with world governments instead of burning down their buildings. But Lio doesn't need to be good at those things, at least not yet. Because he has Galo, and that's enough to make all the other glaring incongruities tolerable.


	9. ix. "i miss you"

"I'll only be gone for a week," Lio is saying, as if even a few too many _hours_ apart doesn't make it incredibly tempting to just drive down to one of those tent cities and try to find Lio in the crowds. "I wish it wasn't so short notice, but it can't be helped."

Galo still doesn't quite understand why Lio has to go at all. It's not a problem that's specific to _him_. Of course, he knows saying that would be unbelievably selfish so, instead, he asks, "Can't Meis or Gueira go for you? They managed to lead the Mad Burnish without you before."

Honestly, it sounds like a bad idea to him. Lio is basically going to fly overseas and deliver a speech in several different countries about the former-Burnish. The way that the people were being treated made the tent cities around Promepolis look like five-star luxury hotels. Lio had told him about labor camps, firing squads, dehydration and disease running rampant… So he's going with other ambassadors to personally oversee the signing of new human rights legislation and make sure it's all actually enforced. It's a great cause, no doubt. It's also an excellent opportunity for an assassination. It's not like most of those countries view the Burnish _favorably_ , obviously.

"It's a show of good faith," Lio says patiently as if he hasn't already told Galo this three times. He folds another shirt up and sets it into his increasingly-full-looking suitcase. "I'm the face of the movement for Burnish rights. My efforts will feel insincere if I send someone else for me. Besides, Gueira is coming too," he reminds Galo. "He and Meis refused to let me go unaccompanied. And Meis is better at paperwork, so he can watch over my duties here while I'm gone."

There's an impudent _"why couldn't I be your bodyguard?"_ on Galo's lips that he forces himself to swallow. He knows why, as much as he doesn't like it. Gueira is just a better fighter. Without his matoi and mecha, Galo hates to admit it, but he isn't much of a fighter. Whereas, without his promare, Gueira is just as formidable. He's taken up knives and other sharp, pointy things recently. And according to Lio, he's an excellent shot.

He takes a few moments to figure out what to say that won't start a fight. Galo eventually settles on, "I guess that makes sense…" He can't bring himself to agree, but he's not about to try and make Lio stay, either. He knows how important this is, not just to Lio on a personal level, but to improve the lives of millions. He's being petulant and childish, but he doesn't want to see Lio go.

The feelings between them have gotten more intense lately. Or maybe Galo is just better at reading it: the way that his heart twinges when Lio is upset, or how the hair on the back of his neck stands up when Lio is close, or how his abdomen twists when they're touching. He is hyper-aware of Lio's presence at all times, from rooms away, and that's really scary. That's _terrifying_ because they've only known each other for a few months and Galo doesn't know how he's going to manage for a week without Lio.

Maybe Lio can sense that because he pauses packing to give Galo a smile over his shoulder. "I'll call you when I land," he offers. It's more of a gesture to help Galo at the moment than later — phone calls don't compare at all to being this close to each other.

Still, that's better than nothing, and Galo knows better than to get greedy. He forces a smile. "You'd better. Don't think I won't take the first flight out there if something happens."

Lio rolls his eyes playfully and turns to put the last of his laundry into place. He has to push down on the suitcase to close it. As he does, he says, "That's a _great_ idea. Tracking me down in a hostile country whose language you don't speak will be child's play, I'm sure."

It's a joke, so Galo smiles… but he sort of feels like there's something that Lio's not getting. Maybe something that he's not getting, too. He can feel the anticipation bubbling in the space between them, in the tense set of Lio's shoulders: like the words are _right there_ , but Galo still isn't sure what he's trying to say.

"Hey, Lio?" He tries anyway. Because, _fuck_ , he can tell this next week is going to be miserable already. He doesn't know why it feels so good to be near, or why it hurts so much to be apart. It's not _just_ the soul-bond. The moment they first locked eyes, Galo felt like there was something connecting them. He's not sure if Lio feels the same way but, to him, fusing their souls to save the planet had been more like solidifying the inevitable than creating something brand new.

His tone must give him away, or maybe Lio can just sense that Galo's mood has turned serious. He straightens and turns to face Galo fully, sitting on Lio's bedroom floor near his bedroll. "Yes?"

Doing this on the floor only makes it more awkward, so Galo gets to his feet. He crosses the room to Lio and realizes somewhat dimly how short Lio is. He's always known that Lio is small, of course. It's kind of hard to miss. It's just that, now, Galo feels an unusual wave of concern. There are so many things that can go wrong. Lio doesn't have his promare anymore to protect him. All of the memories Lio showed him, of the times he's been shot alone, flash in a morbid slideshow through Galo's head and he feels different parts of his body flare-up in pain each time.

It's not just physical danger. Lio still has nightmares. Sometimes Galo wakes up to find that Lio joined him in the middle of the night, or a scream has Galo running half-asleep to the room down the hall, or he finds Lio sitting bleary-eyed in front of the TV after a night of being unable to rest.

He opens his mouth and, at a loss for anything else to say, Galo mutters, "So… you're leaving any minute now, huh?" Which isn't what he wanted to say, not by a long shot, but he's never had so much difficulty just saying, _"I'll miss you."_

Lio quirks his head, the corner of his mouth turning up fondly. And Galo feels ridiculous because they're adults and _it's only going to be a week_ , but he feels like they _need_ each other. "Try not to lose sleep over it," he says. Then his eyes soften and Lio reaches out to take his hand. "Listen, Galo… There's something I've been meaning to tell you." He bites his lip. "I've been thinking about it for a while, but I've never been able to find the words until recently. And when I did, I kept thinking that I had to wait for the right moment, that it had to be perfect." Lio gives his hand a squeeze and Galo is suddenly, intensely aware of how close they are, of how unbearable those last few inches feel. "But then I realized that there's never going to be a moment when I just realize, "this is it!" It's never going to be perfect. Something always comes up, you know? So, I know I could do this better, but..."

When Lio doesn't continue, Galo stays quiet, waiting. He's pretty sure that he knows where this is going, but he doesn't want to jump to assumptions. The unidentifiable _thing_ that's been strangling his chest for who knows how long is building. Galo knows the word for it now. It's on the tip of his tongue, and he almost wants to try saying it at the same time that Lio does. They're always so in sync — why would this be any different?

And then the doorbell rings.

They jump apart so quickly that it nearly gives Galo whiplash, his chest aching like he's just ripped something out of it. He can tell by the way that Lio winces that he felt it too: as if they'd just jammed their fingers into an electrical outlet.

That's all it takes to ruin the atmosphere. But it doesn't feel like something has popped, it feels like they've stopped right on the precipice. And the tension is unbearable, it's practically fucking _suffocating_. Galo can barely think well-enough to move, but Lio gathers himself and grabs his suitcase off of the dresser, casual as can be.

"That must be Gueira with the car," he says mildly. Galo's head is spinning. He doesn't understand how Lio can be so casual after what just happened. After what _almost_ happened. "The first part of the flight is nine hours, then we'll stop to refuel and I'll be laid over for about four hours. The last stretch of the flight is going to be closer to five. I'll call you in between flights and when we reach our final stop, alright?"

Dumbly, all Galo can do is nod. "Yeah, sure…" He notices Lio already has one foot out the bedroom door and, panic leaping in his throat, Galo scrambles after him. "Wait up!"

Lio doesn't wait, though. He's already opening the front door, slipping on his shoes by the time Galo gets there.

"Hey, Boss!" Gueira greets, automatically taking Lio's luggage. "Ready to get going?"

"Yes," Lio says, at the same time that Galo shouts, "No!"

There's a pause. Gueira looks between the two of them, unsure. "Should I give you guys a minute?" He sounds genuine, but there's a teasing sort of look on his face that Galo doesn't like. It reminds him of the looks he gets from his co-workers and, childishly, Galo hates it. Why does everyone else have to be privy to his relationship with Lio? Why can't they just have _this_?

"No," Lio cuts in with a shake of the head. He turns to Galo, and his expression is unreadable. "I know we need to talk, but it can wait until I get back. This needs to be my priority right now."

This is so _unfair, unfair, unfair,_ that's all Galo can think. Lio was the one to pull him closer, to start talking, and it's not Galo's fault that they were interrupted. But he holds his tongue because this isn't about him. He's not the _only_ important thing in Lio's life, and the reverse is also true.

It's just that, it's always felt sort of like this, hasn't it? Lio running off, Galo chasing him. He doesn't know what to say now. His head is quiet. The few feet of space between them is too much, because they'd been inside of each other at one point. For a few glorious minutes, they had been each other. He'd seen Lio's life flash by right next to his own until they'd blurred together like they were never meant to be apart. Galo doesn't know how to say it — doesn't know how to say _I miss you so fucking much. Even when you're here, I miss you. It's not the same._ And he's sure that that's not what Lio needs to hear right now, because they're not the same person. Lio has his own goals and a future he's struggled for, and Galo isn't...

Galo swallows around the petty need to be passive-aggressive and looks at Lio for a long time. " _I have so much to tell you,"_ Lio's eyes seem to say, " _but I can't right now. It's too distracting, the timing is all wrong. I'm sorry."_

So, with a Herculean effort, Galo smiles and nods. "Yeah," he manages. "We can talk when you get back. Have a safe flight, alright?"

...Galo isn't going to hold him back.

Gueira snorts. "Not like we have any control over that. You might wanna let the pilot know," he says, turning around. With Lio's suitcase in hand, he starts down the stairs.

When Gueira's back is turned, Lio suddenly steps closer. He leans up and the feeling of his lips pressed against Galo's cheek feels like being dunked in cold water. "I'll miss you, too," are Lio's parting words, murmured low enough that only Galo can hear them. Then he starts down the stairs, heels clicking all the way to the bottom.

Again, Galo finds himself frozen. He makes no move to leave his sentinel at the doorway, ignoring the cold air coming in with the breeze as he looks out fondly to the night sky. He can't see them, but he hears the car start and pull away. He can feel the cord between himself and Lio pull taut like it's going to snap, and the difficulty that Galo has breathing has nothing to do with the chill.

To nothing, Galo whispers, "Love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took a hot minute, I was writing and updating other fics. Consider this a Christmas gift. The last chapter should be up before the end of the year, and it's a long(-ish) one!


	10. x. through spark and flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I started writing/posting this fic for my girlfriend, posting the final chapter on her birthday seems fitting to me. Happy birthday, babe! I love you. The rest of you can enjoy the last chapter, too.

As the hours and miles whittled away, Lio had been clinging to some faint hope that the aching in his chest would lessen as the distance between them did. That turned out to be the furthest thing from the truth.

See, when Lio first got on the plane with Gueira for his important, world-changing speeches for his community, he'd been missing Galo. Then, hours later, when they were in the air above the endless ocean, Lio had begun finding it difficult to take his mind off of Galo. A full day later, when he was supposed to be getting ready for his first speech, he'd been texting Galo every second he wasn't asleep instead of preparing.

The mental toll wasn't the most unbearable part. It was the physical reaction Lio had dealt with. The place where his promare had been, nestled in his chest near his heart, had been left squeezed empty and scraped raw when he'd gotten rid of it with Galo. And in its place, it seemed Lio had developed a huge _nerve_ that sent him into phantom pains of agony that felt a lot like hunger. Except, instead of food, Lio was looking into return flights until Gueira had to confiscate his phone.

Getting closer to arriving at home has made the pain crest. Before, it had been a mind-numbing discomfort and, now, sitting in the back of the car that Gueira's driving toward his apartment, Lio's seeing black spots and doubts that he could stand up for how his legs are shaking. He's not sure _why_ it's getting worse as he gets closer, and he doesn't really care. Maybe now that his desires are there and tangible, the urge to be at Galo's side is growing harder to ignore as a way of telling Lio to _go get what he wants_.

So when Gueira stops the car, shooting a concerned look at him in the rearview mirror, Lio is opening the door before Gueira can even finish the word " _Boss"_. He stumbles on his feet, grimacing. Ugh. Lio has enough sense to be ashamed. He's stumbling around like a drunk, and for what? For someone like—

"Lio." Galo's voice interrupts the thought and Lio's head whips around so quickly that his neck hurts. He looks as awful as Lio feels, which is probably appropriate. Lio has had Gueira making him eat and sleep and do his goddamn job. He wonders how Galo has been managing, in their small apartment by himself. Despite the bags under his eyes, Galo smiles as brightly as ever when he makes eye-contact with Lio. "You're back. Hey. Have a good trip?" As if Lio hasn't been texting and calling him nonstop about the details.

He walks around the car, amazed that Galo has enough self-restraint to keep from rushing him. (It's not restraint, it's respect — Galo is thoughtful enough not to push for too much, not when Lio still flinches when he's hugged too suddenly.) Lio has the faint thought that he wants to curl up together, without clothes or skin or bones, until their souls blend together (again) and he forgets what it means to be an individual.

Instead, Lio reaches out. He takes hold of Galo's hand and the sudden _release_ of the pressure in his chest feels so good that he almost breaks down crying. He pulls himself together and, managing a tense smile, shakes Galo's hand once before letting go. "It was productive," is all Lio says. He turns away from Galo's stupefied expression and opens the car door, pulling out his suitcase. "And also tiring. I'm going to go unpack and then rest in my room."

He leaves before Galo can protest, ignoring his shout of Lio's name and the car door slamming as Gueira gets out of the car. Lio knows that they're going to end up talking about him, but that's not his problem. He feels normal for the first time in a week. Holding himself tall and calm, Lio opens their apartment door and trudges down the familiar halls to his room. He sets his suitcase down near his dresser but doesn't make an attempt to unpack.

Exhausted, Lio sighs and slumps, rubbing his eyes with a mumbled curse. The last week has been hell, but it taught him a lesson. He's far too dependent on Galo. That's a problem. He's supposed to be the leader of the former-Burnish, and yet he's living with someone who could never understand in a cushy little apartment. The creaking of the floorboards is familiar, the sound of the coffee maker whirring in the morning wakes him right on schedule, he's got memories of laughing and trading stories with Galo on their stupid, cramped balcony.

But the thing is, he _shouldn't_. He's supposed to be a leader, not a homemaker. During his speeches, he'd exhausted himself trying to focus long enough to get through any of them without stuttering. Let alone interviews or public appearances or meeting world leaders. He's lucky that Gueira is such a good manager, otherwise, it would have been a _disaster_. And that's too close of a call. Lio can't stake the lives of millions — _billions_ , even — on some irrational crush on an idiot he's known for all of five months. He just _can't_. It's gone on long enough already. It needs to end. Lio doesn't care how.

The front door opens and there are hurried footsteps toward his room. It's pointless trying to delay this conversation, so Lio doesn't attempt to. He turns and faces the door head on when Galo swings it open.

"Lio, did something happen?" He asks, drawing closer. Like he doesn't need to think about touching Lio anymore, like the space between them is a suggestion. "I talked to Gueira and he seemed really worried about you. He said that you were acting weirdly the whole time you were on your trip, and— and what you did in the parking lot, that's not like you. Do you want me to give you space in public? Because normally it's not a problem, but if it's a privacy thing I get it, it's just—"

"Galo." Lio cuts him off with just the word, a tone that he's only used before on his subordinates. A part of him feels guilty for it, but Galo's mouth gratefully snaps shut. He rubs his temples, trying not to look as tired as he feels. "Okay. I'm done trying to be subtle. This last week away from you has been _fucking unbearable_. You felt it too, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah…" Galo rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, trying for a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "It was really hard to get through the week, just waiting for time to pass. I felt like I was going crazy. But what does that have to do with—?"

"Don't you get it?" Lio snaps. He wishes that he still has his promare. Normally, when he got angry, there was a response. A surge of heat, of power. Lio could set the Earth on fire when he was angry. And now, all he can do is scream himself hoarse and hope that Galo gets even a bit of it to sink through his thick skull. "I had a _job_ to do while I was away, Galo! I had people depending on me, people looking for even the slightest crack in my front to tear me down over. This trip was too important for— for me to be wasting so much time being mopey and pining over you!"

There's a look on Galo's face like he'd very much like for Lio to stop talking. But since that's not going to happen, Galo at least tries to take some control over where this conversation is going. "So what are you saying?" He asks, voice low. "I can't turn that off. It's because of when we joined to send the promare away, Lio. That's not my fault."

It's not. And maybe it's unfair of Lio to punish Galo for something that he can't control, but he's too emotional right now to care. Angry and confused and lovesick, hating that last part most of all.

"This is inconvenient. It doesn't matter who's fault it is," Lio tells him, somewhat calmer as he attempts to reign himself in. "Spending time away from you physically is a liability. So I'm going to keep living with you and I want you to accompany me on any of my future trips, but that's where this… this _pseudo-relationship_ you've invented for us ends, alright?"

He feels ridiculous. He must look like a wreck, with his hair mused and his clothes rumpled and his eyes heavy with a lack of sleep. Always, Lio has prided himself on maintaining being put together regardless of circumstance. And getting like this about Galo, of all people, is whittling away at his sanity. He's gesturing wildly with his hands and trying not to shout, and it's _awful_. He should have better control over himself.

"Pseudo-rela—" Galo blinks, then balks as Lio's meaning sinks in. "Wait. Did you think that I thought we were _dating_?"

"Irrelevant." Lio turns away because he can't bear to keep looking into Galo's stupid, well-meaning eyes. He pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, taking a deep breath. "Whatever it was, it's done. I can't do this anymore." And he shouldn't _want to_ , either, so why does saying that feel like a mistake?

There's a pause, but it doesn't sound like Galo is leaving or about to agree. Why can't anything ever be easy? "That doesn't seem like what you were going to say to me before you left," he settles on, calm as can be. Lio nearly _does_ set something on fire, impossible as it is, he's so frustrated.

"What does it matter?" He whirls on Galo, his gaze accusatory. "This is what I'm saying _now_. Why don't you ever listen?"

"That's not fair," Galo argues. "You can't just _decide_ what our relationship is without any input from me. You're not the only one involved." He folds his arms across his chest and, for the first time in a long, long time, _glares_ at Lio. "You know, for such a self-sacrificial leader, you're pretty damn selfish."

If he'd still been able to summon a sword from his promare, Lio probably would have run Galo through for that. Or maybe not. It's hard to think clearly through the bubbling emotions threatening to drown him. " _Selfish_?" He snarls. "How am _I_ being selfish? I'm trying to put my people first, _that's_ what matters!"

"No, you're defending your own ego because you think cutting me off is easier on your delicate fucking pride than just _talking to me_!" Galo shoots back. He closes the distance between them, towering over Lio, but he doesn't back down. Not even when Galo jabs a finger into his chest and, _fuck_ , even that much contact feels amazing. "I spent the last few months working with you, Lio, and I'm not talking about our useless jobs. You think I put up with how goddamn prickly you are because I'm not _invested_ in this? In _us_? I've been trying _so hard_ to get you to let your walls down and I thought we were making good progress, so _why_ are you putting them back up?"

Lio barely hears him. He wants to kiss Galo so badly that it _hurts_. "There is no " _us"_ ," he hisses because this is safer, this is _smarter_ , "and if you managed to convince yourself of that, then that's on you, not me."

He turns away, trying to signal that the conversation is over. Of course, that doesn't work either. Galo grabs his wrist, just holding him there. "Lio, _c'mon_ ," he begs, sounding exhausted. It makes Lio think of the week Galo'd spent in agony, missing something that he couldn't just go chasing after, and he winces with a pang of guilt. "Stop doing this. You've been vulnerable before. Why is this different? What are you _scared_ of?" He threads their fingers together, and—

And Lio _can't fucking do this_.

"Because I think I'm in love with you!" Lio rips his hand free and whirls on Galo, wishing that he sounded more furious than near tears. "But you fucking know that already. Is that what you wanted, to hear me say it? Yes, okay, _fine_. I was going to tell you right before I left, but— but then I realized that I had too much to say and not enough time. And, more than that, I _needed_ this trip. This whole time, I've been wondering if my interest in you was because we managed to make ourselves soulmates or if it was something that I actually _wanted_. And now we have our answer!" He throws his hands up in frustration, moving away because he can't keep standing that close to Galo without getting overwhelmed. "You felt exactly what I did. We missed each other, but only because of something that we never chose. Whatever you think we have, _it's not real_. I don't want anything to do with it." A lie. Lio wishes that it was as easy as saying no. But even as the words leave his mouth, he's still thinking about " _I love you"_ and how easy it would be to say it to Galo.

It's silent for what feels like a long time. And Galo is just staring, staring, _staring_ , his expression unreadable, as if he hasn't even noticed that Lio is coming apart at the seams. He holds himself calmly, passively, and then says, "You think that everything you're feeling is just because of… what we did?"

He's going to be here all fucking day if he lets this drag on. " _Yes_ ," Lio grounds out. "I'm not one for repeating myself."

And then Galo _rolls his eyes_. "Okay, well, that's a pretty stupid idea. I'm not sure where you got that from. Sure, maybe becoming "soulmates" or "bonded," or whatever word you want to use for it, means that we don't handle being apart very well, but how can you explain everything else?"

Lio is too busy gaping over the _fucking audacity_ to answer immediately. "I never once said _anything_ about soulmates," he argues. "And what do you mean "everything else"? What else is there?" The fact that this conversation isn't over yet is starting to give him a headache. Lio should have known better: Galo doesn't know how to take "no" for an answer.

"Well, I mean…" Galo turns unsure. "I don't know about _you_ , but I definitely felt something when we first met. You can't explain that away with a soul-bond, can you?" He asks, far more smug than the situation calls for.

He blinks, genuinely caught off-guard. "When we first met," Lio repeats flatly, eyebrow twitching. "What did it for you? When I had my sword at your neck? Or when you shot my faceplate off? Or was it when you got up in my face and started gloating after you won a staged fight?"

"Wha—? _You staged that fight_?" Galo bristles with indignation. As if he thought that a new recruit for the Burning Rescue had any actual, _genuine_ chance at taking down the leaders of the Mad Burnish. As if Lio hadn't been planning that arrest and breakout for _months_. "Oh, you're _so_ lucky you don't still have your promare, otherwise I'd challenge you to a rematch," he threatens.

It doesn't feel lucky. The furthest thing from it, as a matter of fact. But the last thing that Lio needs is to drag _another_ problem into this argument, so he just says, "By all means, if you felt like losing again."

Galo frowns at him. "You're distracting me," he accuses.

Turning away, Lio shrugs. "You have a short attention span. You're distracting yourself." And, damn, if he doesn't wish that Galo's attention span was just a _little_ shorter. That they could already be done with this.

There's a sigh. Galo must be done with yanking him around because he comes around and places himself right in front of Lio. "My point is," he says in a voice that's far too gentle, hands on Lio's shoulders, " _yes_ , I liked you when we first met. I probably shouldn't've been flirting with a detained terrorist but, in my defense, I was coming off of an adrenaline rush and you were really hot."

Lio quirks a brow, amused despite himself. He chooses not to focus on Galo saying that he's attractive, but he's pretty sure that his face is red anyway. "Flirting?"

"Well, _yeah_." Galo scoffs, a smile on his face. "What did you think I was doing when I said, "I didn't get naked just for fun"? And people say that _I'm_ dense."

He vaguely remembers that, from two perspectives. Lio muses on it for a moment. "I had a lot more going on in that moment than worrying about why you were shirtless." While living together, he's come to accept that Galo just prefers it that way. And he looks good when he does it, so Lio never minds.

That makes Galo laugh, though it doesn't last long. The good mood fades and Lio's smile falls. Galo manages to keep his in place, with some colossal effort of will that Lio doesn't at all understand. "So you can't tell me that what's between us isn't real, Lio. It always has been. It's not like I make a habit out of saving the world with a guy I've known for a week. Now there's just… extra layers to our relationship, that's all."

For the first time, Lio stomps down on the urge to turn away. He keeps looking at Galo, much as it pains him. "I wish I could have your faith in that," he mutters. Then, taking a deep breath to steady himself, "You know, the day I left for my trip before Gueira interrupted us… I was going to say that I loved you before I could think too much about it. It seems like all I do anymore is overthink things." There are other things to be doing, but Lio has never felt less in control of himself.

"Want me to make tea?" Galo suggests. When Lio shakes his head, his expression softens and he continues. "Okay. Well, what's there to overthink? It's okay to just… want to be around someone, right?"

"It's… complicated." Lio crosses his arms, sighs.

He's never opened himself up to anyone like this before but, surprisingly, it's not that hard with Galo. Probably because he _already_ feels like he's been ripped open and laid bare, all the ugly parts right where Galo can see them. He has Lio's memories: his regrets and weaknesses and fears. More than that, he's seen Lio at his lowest in person. He's seen Lio break down over fireworks, so furious that he couldn't think about anything except killing, and desperate enough that he'd give a practical stranger his flame on the slim hope that his trust would pay off. Anything that Lio says now can't be worse than any of that.

Galo is quiet, giving him time to continue when he's ready.

"I've never… felt like this for anyone before," Lio admits. It's like a dam breaking. When he starts, it's hard to stop. "There was never a time in my life for romance. For as long as I can remember, it's been about being Burnish, and whatever that meant to me on any given day. It still is, in a lot of ways. I have people who still depend on me, I've got responsibilities and problems to solve. A part of me feels like I shouldn't be involved with romance at all, but more than that, I'm not sure how to handle it. For the longest time, I couldn't be sure if what I was feeling for you was a developing crush or just how you're supposed to feel about your friends. I guess it's more obvious now, but sometimes I still think… what if it's not _true_ love, you know? What if someone comes along that makes what we have feel like _nothing_ in comparison? Committing to you could be a mistake. I don't want to hurt you, but I don't want to hurt myself, either. And I'm not sure that I know how to do that."

Galo stares for a long time. It's not fair. Whatever he's asking for (and Lio isn't sure that even _he_ knows what he's asking for), it's not fair to Galo. He already knows what he wants. Lio is the one who still hasn't gotten with the program.

"I don't suppose kissing you would help?" Galo tries.

It wouldn't help, but that doesn't mean Lio doesn't want him to do it anyway. Still, he smiles and shakes his head. "No. Not right now."

"Damn." Galo gives his shoulders a squeeze and lets go, reaching down to take hold of Lio's hands instead. "Look, I… can't pretend to have all the answers. I don't even think I have most of them. Maybe listening to my heart is just easier for me. I don't blame you for that." He shrugs one shoulder, looking at Lio with a fondness that makes him feel exposed. "Regardless of what that soul-bond stuff did to us when you were away, that's not the only reason I missed you. I missed the smell of your horrible black coffee, and the sound of your voice, and just how fun it is to talk to you." And, wow, now would be a really great time to kiss him. Neither of them makes a move to and Lio isn't sure if he's grateful for it or not. "You don't have to give me any yes or no right now. I'm getting all I want just by having you around, so…" Galo squeezes his hands. "Overthink it all you want. I waited for more than twenty years for you. I'll still be waiting when you come to an answer."

" _'Through spark and flame,'_ " Lio murmurs, some months-old memory niggling at the corners of his thoughts.

"Yeah. Just like I said back then," comes Galo's confirmation and an enthusiastic nod. "You didn't think I was kidding, did you?" No. Galo always says what's on his mind, and he always means it. Honest to a fault.

Lio bites his lip, looking down at their entwined hands. His slim, leather-clad fingers look out of place next to Galo's tanned, calloused skin. They couldn't be more different if they tried. But it feels so good to have their hands clasped like this and Lio doesn't think he has the strength to keep pushing Galo away. "And what if the answer I come to is "no"?"

His hands are released as Galo pulls away, nudging Lio with his shoulder as he walks by. "Then you've still got our soul-bond to contend with, so you aren't getting rid of me _that_ easily," he jokes.

"Oh no. How horrible," Lio says sarcastically. He follows Galo out of the room, curious. "Where are you going?"

"Well, all offers of tea aside, I _am_ pretty hungry." He makes his way over to their cozy kitchenette. "I'm gonna fry some fish and make some rice. You want some?"

Watching Galo brings with it a painful sense of domesticity. Lio isn't good with emotions, he doesn't like opening himself up, and he's never so much as kissed someone before. But he looks at Galo, standing in the center of a home they've made together, and feels like maybe he can learn those things.

He's still not sure yet. But he can give it a few more days to ruminate, just to be sure. For the first time in his life, Lio isn't in a hurry to get anywhere in particular. He can take all the time in the world. He can finally stop to appreciate something permanent, finally wrap his mind around the idea of _forever_. And, in the meantime, Galo will wait for him. He always has been, hasn't he?

"Sure," Lio agrees, walking over to Galo. "But it better not be those frozen salmon fillets you bought the week before I left. You always manage to burn them."

"They taste better that way!" Galo protests. "And you don't even _like_ salmon! What do you know about what tastes good burnt and what doesn't?"

Lio laughs instead of answering. Yeah. He can definitely get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my first work for a fandom, I'd say that 1k Hits and 100 Kudos is pretty good! Thanks everyone so much for reading. Hopefully I'll have a lot more Promare works to come!

**Author's Note:**

> I made an AMV with these two, if you guys want to check it out **[HERE](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ONnAfTYwfiU)**!
> 
> I also have a Tumblr **[HERE](https://karkalicious769.tumblr.com/)** featuring some other links if you guys want to support my writing!


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